


Relax

by thoroughlynerdy



Category: Arashi (Band)
Genre: Bondage, M/M, Power Play, slight dub con
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-04-30
Updated: 2012-04-30
Packaged: 2017-11-04 13:44:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,721
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/394531
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thoroughlynerdy/pseuds/thoroughlynerdy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Aiba is worried about Jun and makes sure he knows it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Relax

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [All Work and No Play](https://archiveofourown.org/external_works/8225) by faded_lace. 



“You scheduled your bathroom breaks,” Aiba teases, laughing the accuracy of Jun’s schedule displayed before him.

“Give me that,” Jun replies, snatching his phone back from Aiba’s hand and rolling his eyes at the statement. “It’s not that bad,” he huffs. “Besides, you know I like being busy,” he tells Aiba as he lowers himself into the chair opposite him, attempting to regain some dignity. “Go get some lunch,” he adds dismissively.

It’s Aiba’s turn to roll his eyes now. “I understand that, but there’s a difference between being busy and working yourself into a coma,” he says earnestly as he rises to follow Jun’s suggestion and head to where catering has set up.

Aiba returns minutes later and watches Jun silently, eyes dark and mind working. Jun has been coming home later and later every night, only to leave hours before Aiba himself needs to. Between the promotion for his new drama and their regular filming schedule, Jun has practically been living out of his Louis Vuitton shoulder bag, _if this were me, Jun would be furious_ , Aiba thinks but since it isn’t him, Aiba is the furious one, and he resolves to tell Jun so.

Except that the next time Aiba does see Jun is when he’s sitting in a makeup chair before a VS filming, with his nose buried in a script. Again. Aiba wants to walk over and snatch the script from him but he squashes the urge. Instead he drops a hand onto Jun’s shoulder lightly, noting the dark circles the makeup artist will soon be attacking with concealer. “We should get dinner tonight,” he suggests quietly.

Jun’s eyes meet Aiba’s in the mirror and he smiles apologetically. “I’m sorry but I have to do some re-shoots later.”

Aiba nods and can’t quite keep the dejection off his face. He’s trained himself to mask his disappointments over the years, and Jun really does look sorry, but Aiba hasn’t spent more than half an hour alone with him at home in weeks. “Oh, okay,” he says turning quickly and forcing a small smile, “Leader, you’ll have dinner with me tonight, right?”

Jun’s voice stops Aiba in his tracks halfway across the room, “I’m free tomorrow, how about I make you dinner then?”

Aiba’s smile is genuine this time, “Sure! Can I bring anything?”

“A bottle of wine?” Jun suggests easily as the stylist graciously backs off and lets them chat.

Aiba is nodding at Jun’s suggestion and grinning like he’s just won the lottery. “Okay, tomorrow night. No scripts or schedules, just us.”

Jun smiles in return, “Just us.”

\----

Aiba sits at the counter, peeling vegetables and yammering on about the adventures he’d had filming Tensai! Shimura Doubutsuen earlier that day. “The kittens were so cute and sleepy. And this black one, he kept nibbling on my finger. I think he was trying to get milk from me!”

Jun stands at the stove, simmering the tomatoes that will soon become the base of his red sauce, and laughs along with Aiba.

Aiba has missed this, the simplicity of sharing a meal with someone he loves, and just being himself without the expectations of the world to live up to. “Ah, I am a bit worried about the pop-up scratching post I made for the cats though” he confesses, “what if the cat owners accidentally activate it and someone ends up tripping?” he asks worriedly as he scoops the peels into the garbage can near his legs.

Jun laughs and shakes his head, dipping his spoon into the sauce. “Taste this, is there too much oregano?” he asks as he crosses over to where Aiba is sitting and offers him the spoon.

“No, it’s good!” Aiba replies and Jun grins back at him as he takes a handful of vegetables and adds them to the mixture bubbling on the stove, “I don’t think you have to worry about the cat owners. They’ll be able to take care of themselves. And if they can’t then they deserve to trip,” he adds easily.

Aiba snorts at Jun’s statement and shakes his head. “That’s so mean!”

Jun shrugs indifferently and takes two plates out of the cabinet. “Pour us some wine, okay?” he asks Aiba as he begins plating their meal.

Aiba nods eagerly and sets about his task, reaching for the wine that has been breathing on the counter and gets to work. He pours carefully, making sure to protect the surface of Jun’s table and that there is an equal amount of liquid in both glasses.

Jun grins as he turns to bring the plates to the table. Aiba is bent over, eyes inches from the two glasses and squinting. “I think that’s good, Masaki.”

Aiba’s head shoots up, his cheeks tinted pink. “I just wanted to make sure they were perfect.”  
The conversation flows easily as they eat, Jun filling Aiba in on the latest happenings on the set of his drama and how fun it is working with both Eita and Riisa again. Aiba knows that Jun is happy, but he also sees how tired he is and how much of a toll his schedule is taking on him. He’s glad that they have a little while tonight so that Jun can really unwind. Jun is recapping the last two weeks’ shooting schedule, noting the amount of night scenes he’s had to shoot compared to his other dramas. “Don’t they ever let you sleep?” Aiba scoffs jokingly, and immediately regrets his words.

Jun scowls. “It’s in the script.” He says defensively.

“I know, I know.” Aiba tries to smooth the situation over, his palms coming up in a defensive gesture. “I didn’t mean anything by it.”

Jun settles back into his chair and stabs a forkful of pasta with a little more force than necessary. “It’s fine.” He says shortly.

Aiba puts more effort into getting Jun back into a good mood than he normally would. This isn’t the plan. The plan consists of dinner then sex. Arguing is not part of it. Aiba apologizes again and then asks Jun about filming the fight scenes since he’s never had such a physical part before. The question puts Jun back at ease and soon the argument is forgotten as Jun uses the salt and pepper shakers to show Aiba just how everything is filmed.

After they finish dinner and Jun’s paper covers Aiba’s rock, Aiba is stuck with the dishes. “Besides, all you did was peel a few vegetables. I did the hard part,” Jun teases lightly.

Aiba nods his agreement. “Okay, then you relax and have another glass of wine,” he says encouragingly as he takes the plates and sets them on one side of the sink, turning on the water to heat up while he returns to fetch his own wine glass to add to the pile of dirty dishes.

Aiba hums as he washes. He’s happy to have Jun to himself for the night and humming is the better alternative to laughing like a maniac. When he finishes drying the last fork and setting it in the drawer with the other utensils, he turns to suggest a shower, but the words die on his lips as he sees Jun. He’s slumped over the table, script under his cheek as he breathes evenly in his sleep. His glasses are pushed up awkwardly on the side which his face is resting on. He walks over to Jun and sighs, reaching out to brush Jun’s bangs away from his forehead. “What am I going to do with you?” He says, pressing a kiss to Jun’s temple.

\----

Aiba prepares meticulously. He steps into Jun’s closet and glances around, noting the organization of it all. His own closet was thrown together rather haphazardly, slacks mingling with t-shirts and jeans. Jun’s closet is like something out of a catalog. Every article has a home, a specific place where it belongs. His eyes roam over the accessories, coming to rest on the various belts. The leather shines tantalizingly, but he shakes his head. He keeps looking and smiles when he his eyes settle on the colors and patterns on the silk of Jun’s ties. These are what he needs. Jun may strangle him with them later, but he’ll gladly sacrifice himself for the greater good. He gathers a dozen ties and just as he turns to leave he stops in his tracks. There, hanging on the back of the door, is a beautiful lavender silk shirt. Aiba smiles as the rest of his plan comes together. Envelop

It’s a testament to how tired Jun actually is that he doesn’t wake when Aiba shifts him, bringing his head to rest against the back of the chair and his hands around to knot the ties around them. After his wrists are secure, Aiba then works on binding the rest of the ties around Jun’s chest, attempting to distribute the weight as evenly as possible to ensure Jun’s comfort. He steps back and assesses his work, and after finding the result acceptable, reaches out to give Jun’s shoulder a gentle shake. He watches as Jun shifts slowly, coming into consciousness, and has to stop himself from speaking when he sees the confusion and discomfort invade Jun’s features as he struggles lightly against the bonds, but never fully waking.

Aiba reaches out instead, palming Jun’s shoulder as he shakes it again gently. He leans in, studying the lines of Jun’s eyebrows that stand out against the pale cream of his skin even in the muted light filtering in through the hallway. Dragging his eyes down the rest of Jun’s face, Aiba takes in the sharp angle of his nose and the soft curve of his lips, eyes lingering on the small trio of moles. He watches Jun’s eyes as they make a trek of their own and feels a spark of satisfaction at the bob of Jun’s Adam’s apple when he realizes just what Aiba is wearing. Or more precisely, what he isn’t.

He pulls back, quickly schooling his features as he feels a grin begin to grow. This isn’t the time for smiles. “Jun-kun,” he says, tone hard.

Aiba feels the satisfaction creeping up again when he sees the confusion on Jun’s features, eyebrows knitting together as he wonders exactly what is happening. Aiba watches as Jun shifts, trying to move against the bonds, and steels himself at Jun’s protest, “What the—Masaki!”

“You fell asleep working,” Aiba explains, stepping further into Jun’s personal space. Every move he makes brushes the fabric of Jun’s shirt over his bare thighs. He’d meant for it to be a tease for Jun, but the tickling sensation is doing more to him than he’d have thought. “You know what they say about all work and no play…” The line is tired, but couldn’t be any more truthful than in this moment. He and Jun had agreed that tonight would be just for play, and while he wasn’t angry that Jun had been working, he was fed up with what the work was doing to Jun.

Aiba knows Jun’s confusion has been fully replaced by annoyance by the way there is a bite to his words when he snaps back, “Work is work! You could have just woken me up, you know. It’s not like I forgot about you or something.”

Jun is still worn-out and isn’t in the best of moods upon waking under normal circumstances, so Aiba can almost understand until he says that last bit. That brings him over the edge. _Is that what he thinks? That all I’m worried about is the lack of sex we’re having?_ The thought makes him angry. “Don’t make this about me,” he practically spits out the words, “When was the last time you had eight hours of sleep, Jun-kun? When was the last time you took a break?” he demands, frustrated. They’d had this argument in many forms over the past few weeks, but now Aiba is determined to get an answer.

“Work is work,” Jun insists again, struggling more against the knots of the ties. As dissatisfied as Aiba is with that answer, he smiles inwardly as Jun works to right his glasses—the plastic frames have been sliding further down Jun’s nose for the last few minutes and Aiba uses this to his advantage, reaching out to remove them. “Is that better?” he asks even though he already knows the answer, knows how Jun’s first action upon waking is to slip his glasses back on to set the world into focus once again. “All this stress isn’t good for you, Jun-kun. Honestly.” The words come out teasing, but the tone belies the true sentiment of the statement.

Jun’s body goes stiff and Aiba can practically feel the irritation radiating off of him now as his complete lack of control becomes evident. “When’s the last time _you_ got eight hours of sleep?” Jun returns defiantly.

Aiba takes a moment to stare down at Jun then leans in, face hard, “I thought I told you not to make this about me,” he says firmly, then leans in to kiss Jun hard. He takes advantage of Jun’s gasp of surprise and pushing his tongue inside Jun’s mouth and exploring the slick heat, wrenching back when just as Jun begins to respond. He smiles coldly at the dazed look Jun throws him.

“Now,” Aiba says dryly, are you ready to behave yourself?” He finds that he enjoys holding this sort of power over Jun—keeping him dependent on his own whims, and waits patiently for Jun to respond.

Jun’s nod of agreement, of submission, has Aiba beaming down at him as he straddles Jun. He leans in and kisses Jun again and his hands set to work trying to feel every inch of Jun possible. He runs his palms up the planes of Jun’s chest, splaying his fingers over Jun’s chest and through the cotton of his t-shirt he can feel the rhythmic thump of his heart. He moves his hands down, gliding them over denim and up along his arms to thread through his hair. And finally, he is cupping Jun’s face, thumbs smoothing over Jun’s cheeks as he kisses him again, this time taking the time to linger. He feels Jun responding, giving him everything back, and loses himself. Aiba’s mind is racing, wanting everything right now; he lowers his hands and flicks open the button on Jun’s pants.

“Masaki—what are you—?” Jun gasps against his lips, but Aiba interrupts him with another kiss, then smiles. “I’m helping you relax.” The words are innocent enough, but Aiba’s hands are deft as he lowers Jun’s zipper and hooks his thumbs on the waistband of his boxers. He pulls them down quickly, eager to get to the point of this exercise. Aiba turns to the table, where he’s laid out all of the necessary components of his plan and smiles at the frustrated noise Jun makes. He flips the top on the bottle of lube and empties a fair amount into his right hand, working it around in his palm and against his fingers before returning to Jun. He reaches out, fisting Jun’s cock and pumping lightly. Jun’s exclamation of “Fuck!” has him wanting to do just that, but Aiba is keeping his own needs at bay for the time being, entirely focused on Jun. He tsks and hums a teasing “not just yet” as he steps back from Jun’s rocking hips, dragging his index finger along the side of Jun’s cock as he does so. He takes a second to stare down at the man before him, eyes wide, mouth hanging open and smiles at the groan escaping Jun’s lips. That same sense of power surges through him again and he channels it into productivity, deciding to show Jun just how much he cares.

Aiba turns back to the table, finding the lube again and working it around his fingers once more before turning back to Jun. This part he hadn’t quite thought out. He’d been so eager to make Jun a truly captive audience and make him understand the worry he was feeling, and now he would just have to compensate. He leans over Jun, left hand coming to rest on the back of the chair as his right leg lands on the rung at the bottom. His arm digs into Jun’s shoulder as he maneuvers his hand around to slowly slip one finger inside himself. He works it in and out slowly, then adds another a moment later, scissoring his fingers apart, clenching his eyes shut and panting at the sensation of being stretched.

He doesn’t prepare himself as well as Jun usually does, but that takes too much time. All he really wants is to feel Jun coming undone. He smiles as Jun lets out an annoyed “can’t see.”

He leans in close again, lips brushing the shell of Jun’s ear as he replies, “that’s the point.” Aiba straddles Jun once again, his voice husky against Jun’s ear, "I want you to pay close attention, Jun-kun, to today's lesson about de-stressing. All right?" But before Jun can respond Aiba lowers himself onto him and throws his head back, mouth working silently as he is filled.

Aiba’s fingers dig into Jun’s shoulders and he’s vaguely aware that if he doesn’t loosen his grip soon he may leave marks. He loosens and tightens his grip intermittently; trying to force his body to relax around Jun, and slowly it begins to work. His breathing is beginning to even out again and Jun’s pathetic whine of need sends a jolt through his system, making his stomach clench. He steadies himself and leans forward to press a kiss to Jun’s forehead, the change in the angle sending waves of pleasure through his system.  
He can’t take it anymore and grips the back of the chair again as he plants his feet and raises himself, allowing gravity to take over as he slams back down onto Jun. The sensation is unlike anything Aiba has experienced before; he is in full control and knows exactly what he wants to give, and exactly what he wants to take. He pulls himself up again, and gasps as he comes down again, Jun’s hips coming up to meet him halfway and it’s more than he could have prepared himself for as the combination of both of their movements has Jun hitting his prostate. As they move, the fingers of Aiba’s left hand move up Jun’s back, fisting themselves in Jun’s hair and pulling as Aiba’s lips find Jun’s again. Their tongues work together, sliding against one another as they slip into a familiar kiss. Aiba loves the sensation of kissing Jun, the slight struggle for control, and knows that Jun will demand it soon, but before he can cede and give Jun what he wants (and what Aiba wants), he needs to needs to know that Jun understands; needs to know that tonight means something new.

He raises himself up, almost entirely off of Jun but leaves just the head of his cock inside of him; he stands still, legs shaking from the effort. He stares down into Jun’s eyes, enjoying the lust in them, “Does this feel good?” Aiba asks.

Jun’s instantaneous nod of agreement has his lips quirking into a smile. “Do you want to finish?” Aiba grins again as Jun’s head bobs again. “Do you promise to take a break from working and relax a little more often, Jun-kun?" Jun is nodding again and Aiba knows that he has won. “Good boy,” he says evenly, then drops back down, fucking himself on Jun’s cock until he can feel Jun’s release and comes himself, all over the ties holding Jun to the chair.

As soon as the last tingles of his orgasm are settling, Aiba immediately begins to untie Jun, loosening the knots and attempting to smooth the wrinkles set into the delicate fabric, “I’ll pay for dry cleaning” he murmurs as his hands move to Jun’s wrists, “Do they hurt? I thought ties would feel the best, out of all the choices,” he explains, gently massaging the affected area.

The bubble of laughter coming from Jun is a pleasant surprise, and his simple, “Since it was for my own good, I guess it’s all right,” has Aiba burying his face in Jun’s neck, still sitting in his lap. Jun’s arms come up to wind around him, and Aiba feels more content now than he has in months. They eventually find the energy to drag themselves to bed and settle in for the night.

\----

The next morning, Aiba wakes alone in Jun’s bed. He frowns slightly at the realization and forces himself out of bed. He knows Jun would never intentionally lie to him (and making him promise things in the middle of sex was kind of cheating) but he didn’t think Jun would be gone quite so quickly again. He finds his jeans pooled on the floor and slips them on and realizes his phone is still in the pocket. He flips it open as he makes his way to the kitchen, curious to see if Jun had sent him a message telling him when he would be back again. “Ow,” Aiba says absently as he knocks his elbow against the corner cabinet and Jun’s laugh has him jumping, clutching at his heart as he registers him standing by the coffeemaker, “You scared me!” he says, with a laugh of his own.

Jun’s eyebrows rise in a silent question as he takes another sip of his coffee.

“You were gone when I woke up, so I thought you went in for filming,” Aiba mumbles quietly as he retrieves his own mug from the cabinet.

“We have a night shoot again tonight. I don’t have anywhere to be until seven.” Jun explained easily. “Do you want an omelette?”

Aiba grins back at him. “Two meals cooked by MatsuJun in less than a day? What did I ever do to deserve such an honor?” he asks, fluttering his eyelashes for effect.

Jun rolls his eyes at the declaration. “Just crack me some eggs.”

Aiba’s laugh is loud as he crosses to where Jun is now standing and throws his arms around him. “Jun is the best.”

**Author's Note:**

> I absolutely loved the original version of this and what faded_lace accomplished with the characters and story. Thanks to the wonderful person who betaed this, even if I'm still not quite sure who it ended up being :D


End file.
